


Whispers

by Felixbug



Series: Breaking the Silence [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Sex Magic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felixbug/pseuds/Felixbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"No whispering," Anders said. His voice was quiet but it was a low murmur, not hinting at his quickened breath or flushed skin. He arched, his hips bucked as he thrust into Hawke's fist, but no sound escaped his lips. "Whispers - nn - carry. They sound - they sound..."</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>"Exciting?" Hawke suggested. "Dirty?"</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>"Yeah. Yeah, that."</i>
</p>
<p>Hawke and Anders haven't told their friends about their new relationship - but an overnight trip to the Wounded Coast will make keeping things quiet challenging for them both. Shameless smut, part of Breaking the Silence but reading the rest of the series isn't necessary, this is total PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> warning for mentions of very mild BDSM - all in Hawke's fantasies in this fic though :P

"Do you think they know?"

Hawke glanced ahead along the winding path, smirked, and shook his head.

"Merrill? Definitely not. Bela - well, it won't take her long to notice, but for now? There's no way."

"Really?" Anders paused for a moment to retie his hair, and Hawke watched him, trying not to think about those quick, skilled fingers unbuckling his armour, or how good that tumble of silky hair would feel balled up in his fist. "She's fairly perceptive."

"Yes, but if she knew, we'd have heard about it. Trust me, I know Bela."

"Fair - so do I," Anders smirked. "Maker, you're right, she'd be demanding details."

"Is that why you wanted to keep this quiet?" Hawke looked up again to make sure they weren't being watched, then pulled Anders close with a groan, gripped his ass and squeezed. "You've been living with me for two weeks now - someone is going to notice at some point, love."

"That's okay." Anders' hips jerked almost imperceptibly and he bit his lip. "I just - we had to keep things quiet at the Circle. Hard habit to break, I'm not really - good at the whole _going public_ thing."

"Well I'd noticed the _quiet_ part." Hawke nuzzled at Anders' neck, then ran the tip of his tongue along his jawline, making him pant and squirm deliciously against him. "It's going to be useful when we make camp tonight."

"Oh?" Anders gasped, neck arched as Hawke's teeth grazed over his skin. "They could – _ah_ \- turn around at any second..."

"Yeah?" Hawke slid one hand lower, fingers pressing against the cleft of Anders' ass as the mage rocked helplessly against his thigh. "Have to make this a quick tease then."

He had Anders pressed up against a rock in seconds, a slight outcropping that hid them from view as Hawke shifted his hand to cup Anders' hard length. The path to the Wounded Coast was full of dark corners and thick bushes to dart between, and this wasn't the first stolen moment - but it might have been the most brazen. Hawke kneaded firmly at the rigid outline - right on the edge of rough as he trailed hot, urgent kisses down to Anders' collarbone. Anders gripped his hair, panting harshly as he thrust against Hawke's palm and his thighs shook.

"I want you," Hawke growled. "Tonight. Face down, that gorgeous ass spread for me, biting your lip to hold back screams."

"And - how're you - going to keep quiet?" Anders gasped. "The others might - _nngh_ \- might notice something with all the noise you..."

Hawke grunted against his skin, spit-slick lips pressed firmly against Anders' throat. He stroked his cock again, and let out a low, eager moan. He was achingly hard, desperate for more _now_ \- but the sharp tug in his hair reminded him where they were.

"You'll find a way to keep me quiet," he murmured, and pulled away.

Anders almost whimpered at the loss, and Hawke wondered what it'd take to make him moan - make him beg, make him _scream_. He could feel it in him sometimes - when Anders lay flushed and arched beneath him, writhing and shuddering with every deep, steady thrust. He was close to the edge, close to unravelling entirely and letting Hawke hear him, but he always kept control.

"Hawke?" Isabela called from ahead.

"You're _awful_ ," Anders hissed.

"I'm amazing." Hawke grinned and swooped in for a last quick nip at Anders' jaw. "That's the problem."

He ducked out from behind the rock, distracting Isabela's curious stare as Anders followed, flushed and breathless. If Isabela didn't notice something, it'd be a miracle. Though, Hawke thought as he caught Anders' eye, he'd thought much the same about ever getting Anders to stop keeping him at arm’s length. Perhaps miracles were possible after all.

***

The tents were set up - not half as quickly as Hawke would have liked, and the endless chatter around the campfire seemed to drag on forever. Isabela and Merrill were good company, but all Hawke could think of was dragging Anders to his tent and fucking him senseless.

Eventually Isabela stood, stretched like a cat, and announced she was going to sleep. Merrill followed, and Hawke and Anders were left alone by the campfire, listening to the sounds of quiet conversation drifting from the two women's tent.

"You can really hear everything," Anders said quietly. "Not word for word but..."

"If you're not comfortable, I can wait." He was pretty sure he wouldn't sleep a wink if he had to, but he'd waited three years for Anders - he could manage one night.

"Didn't say that." Anders raised one eyebrow and stood, his hip cocked enticingly as he casually tossed another log onto the fire. A plume of orange sparked danced in the wind and Anders approached through them, and dropped to his knees straddling Hawke's thighs. He cupped his face and kissed him - hard and urgent, swallowing Hawke's low moan as their tongues met. Anders sucked and nibbled at Hawke's lower lip, and Hawke slid one arm around his waist to hold him close as he bucked his hips and panted against Anders' soft, warm lips. He was achingly hard - had been on and off all day - and Anders' breath caught as the impressive thickness of Hawke's erection ground against his ass.

"Tent. Now," Hawke whispered.

Anders nodded, stood, and held out his hand to help Hawke stand. He let Anders drag him to their tent, followed him inside, and was on him again instantly. Harsh pants followed, the whisper of fabric on skin and the creak and jingle of buckles as nimble fingers worked to shed layers of clothing. By the time Hawke was naked, Anders was just beginning to unlace his trousers, and Hawke couldn't resist swatting his hand away and taking over.

"Eager," Anders said softly. It was darker in the tent, but his angular features were outlined in the golden glow of firelight filtering through canvas.

"Yeah," Hawke groaned. "Been watching your ass all - fucking - day."

"Ssh." Anders pushed Hawke down with his fingertips firm against his chest, then bit his lip with a faint sigh as Hawke's hand slipped inside his underclothes and curled around his length. "You're not used to sneaking around."

"Teach me?" Hawke raised an eyebrow. Anders' thigh slipped between his and Hawke rocked against it, and snaked his other hand around Anders' back to pull him down on top of him. He mouthed wetly at the mage's shoulder, hips rolling with every one of Anders' shaky breaths as their bodies found a rhythm with each other.

"No whispering," Anders said. His voice was quiet but it was a low murmur, not hinting at his quickened breath or flushed skin. He arched, his hips bucked as he thrust into Hawke's fist, but no sound escaped his lips. "Whispers - _nn_ \- carry. They sound - they sound..."

"Exciting?" Hawke suggested. " _Dirty?_ "

"Yeah. Yeah, that." Anders grinned and dipped his head to nip Hawke's ear, his stubble rasping against his neck. "If you can't keep it down, I'll have to keep your mouth busy."

"Maker, yes," Hawke growled. He bit his lip hard, focusing on lowering his voice when he spoke again. "Fuck my mouth - I want you to come down my throat - or over my face, _fuck_."

"Some time," Anders said. "Tonight I have my own ideas."

Hawke grinned, and released Anders' throbbing length to reach around and grip the taut curve of his ass. Anders sucked at the column of his throat, the tip of his nose buried in Hawke's beard as he gently nipped and teased the sensitive flesh. A few fumbling moments later and Anders' trousers were around his knees and working lower, as Anders wriggled against Hawke and kicked free of the close-fitting fabric. Hawke grabbed a vial of oil from one of the pouches on Anders' discarded belt, and when his fingers delved into the cleft of Anders' ass again they were slick and purposeful.

"I've got ideas too," Hawke purred, his own cock nudging against Anders' as they rocked lazily together.

Anders' sharp intake of breath hissed against Hawke's skin as his fingers found their target. He circled the clenching entrance briefly, heat pooling in his gut at the delicious way Anders shivered and parted his thighs, pressing up wantonly against the firm pressure. He couldn't quite bring himself to tease - not when his cock ached so urgently. He plunged his fingers into Anders' body, and Anders stifled a needy gasp against Hawke's neck.

"That feel good?" Hawke murmured. Anders nodded, then pressed shaking lips hard against Hawke's skin as he changed the angle of his thrusts and pressed in harder, deeper. Anders rode his fingers, panting shamelessly as Hawke worked him open, loving the way Anders' hands drifted eagerly over his chest, down his sides, groping and scratching lightly, then gripping his hips and pulling him closer.

Another sharp tug and Anders had Hawke on his side, still tangled with Anders' squirming body, with one thick thigh hooked over Anders' slender legs. Their lips met - harder this time, in a clash of teeth and bruising pressure. It was messy, passionate - Anders' fingers were digging into Hawke's skin hard enough to bruise as he swallowed every low, hungry moan.

Hawke rolled his hips and Anders' jerked in response, riding Hawke's hand and straining to grind against his rigid length. His breath was hot and his tongue swept over Hawke's lower lip, a tender touch before his teeth caught the soft flesh and he bit down, then sucked hard. The sting seemed to race down Hawke's spine and crackle through his nerves like lightning, leaving him panting and shuddering, his skin flushed and his cock smearing pre-come across his belly.

Anders' hand moved from his hip for a moment, and when it returned Hawke could feel slickness coating two of Anders' fingers. He stiffened, and Anders pulled back, breathing hard.

"You mentioned you liked this either way," he said quietly. "If you'd rather not..."

"It's not something I've done often. Or recently." Hawke's voice sounded so much louder than Anders' in the night-time quiet, and he lowered his voice as well as he could. "I'm willing - more than. Just - take it slow?"

"Just fingers?" Anders offered. His hand skimmed over Hawke's ass, kneading lightly at the tense muscle. "I want - _oh_ that's - right there..." He threw his head back, his lip drawn between his teeth and eyes half closed as Hawke's fingers curled and thrust inside him. The oil trickling over Hawke's wrist was warm and Anders' slick rim gripped his fingers so tightly - even the thought of how good it would feel to slide his cock into him left Hawke panting raggedly.

"You were saying?" Hawke rocked his wrist again and Anders' thighs shuddered as he bucked urgently.

"I - still want you to fuck me tonight," Anders gasped. "Love your cock. Love the way you - _there, there_ \- the way you fuck me. The way you touch me like - like you want me as much as I want you."

"I do."

"I don't deserve you." Anders shivered and his cock twitched, hot and damp against Hawke's skin, begging to be touched.

"You deserve this, and more." Hawke leaned in to nip at Anders' tempting collarbone, leaving a red mark like a shadow in the low light. He spread his fingers, feeling the stretched, oiled ring of muscle opening for him, open and inviting and _so_ hot he could barely think. He slipped in a third finger, panting against Anders' chest, tasting sweat and the faint, bitter tang of magic that hummed in Anders' skin. Anders gasped with his face buried in Hawke's hair, and his fingers trailed lower - and lower still.

"Oh..."

"Hush, love."

Hawke nodded, his breath quick and hoarse as the oiled digits swept back and forth over his entrance. It felt incredible - better than he'd remembered, every light, teasing stroke awakening flickers of pleasure in the sensitive flesh. He sucked at Anders' skin, mouthing over freckles he could remember but not see, pumping his fingers urgently into Anders' loosened entrance. He was ready, and Maker, it was tempting to shove his legs apart and sink into that tight, slick heat. His cock pulsed at the thought and he _whimpered_ , stifling the cry against Anders' skin as the mage's fingertips kneaded and circled - and the first dipped slowly inside.

He wanted to scream - or bite down hard, but he was too aware of Justice hovering in Anders' mind to risk that. He did neither - he hooked his thigh higher over Anders' waist, spreading himself as open as he could, and muffled the high, shaky pitch in his gasps against Anders' chest. Anders' finger slid deeper - and it was just one finger, but it felt so _good_. It was enough to leave him feeling full for now, stretched tight around the digit, flickers of sweet, deep pleasure coiling at the base of his spine.

"Maker, you're tight," Anders breathed. "You're shaking, love. Can you keep quiet for me? Can you take this without..." he broke off with a gasp as Hawke's fingers worked faster, plunging into him with slick, wet sounds.

"Can you?" Hawke rasped.

He clung shakily to Anders' back, fingers scrabbling against the ridges of scars as he buried his face in the crook of his lover's neck and bit back every desperate moan. A second finger joined the first and his teeth were in Anders' shoulder before he could think, but there was no warning flicker of blue, only a sharp gasp and a harder, deeper press of fingers inside him.

"Can't wait any longer," Hawke murmured. "Let me fuck you - Maker, love, I'm – _fuck_ , I'm already so close."

Anders withdrew his fingers, and Hawke would have keened at the loss if he hadn't bitten his lip until he tasted blood. A few seconds struggle in the narrow confines of the tent and Anders was face-down, thighs spread and one of Hawke's hands carding through the gleaming mass of his hair. He was lit in lines of gold, cutting through inky shadows to follow the rise and fall of muscle and bone. Anders' chest was heaving, his back arched, and the look he shot Hawke over his shoulder was the most intoxicating blend of affection and raw need that he had ever seen. Hawke gripped Anders' ass, spread his pert cheeks, and thrust into him with a breathless, relieved sigh.

They managed close to silence - the only sounds their ragged breaths and the soft, wet sounds of Hawke's slow thrusts. Hawke lost himself in clenching heat, in the softness of Anders' skin as he dropped his hand from his hair to roughly knead the mage's ass and squeeze at the ridges of his hips. Anders was all taut muscle and shaken breaths, tugging at his own hair - and Hawke wanted so badly to take over, twist and yank until Anders yelped, but he held back.

He let his gaze wander, fighting to hold off the steady build of coiled heat inside him. The tension was pulled to breaking point, drawing Hawke closer and closer to his peak as his cock sank into Anders' tight entrance. He saw the way Anders' lip was pulled between his teeth - and Maker, he'd bitten it hard, Hawke could see the flushed indents in the skin. He saw Anders' eyes screw closed as he bit back a whimper, the shake in his shoulders, the way his ass rippled as Hawke thrust in harder. Hawke let his gaze fall between their bodies. The shadows were deep, but the firelight caught the oil on his glistening length and the stretched, flushed rim.

Hawke groaned - as quiet as he could, but he'd have had to be dead not to make a sound. He watched his thick shaft sliding into Anders, the way it disappeared smoothly into oiled flesh, listening to the steady, slick sounds of his thrusts and the mage's ever-shakier pants. He couldn't resist a sharp snap of his hips, and the slap of skin on skin as every inch of his cock slammed in deep left him gasping. He tried to muffle his growl against Anders' shoulder, hunching forward as he gave up control and pounded into him, grunting against sweat-damp skin.

"Fuck," Anders breathed. "You're - so good, sound so good - and..."

"Ssh," Hawke hissed. He nipped playfully at Anders' shoulder, letting one hand slip beneath their bodies to curl around Anders' chest.

Hawke's fingertips brushed a nipple, and this time he could hear the moan Anders swallowed just in time. If he could hold out a little longer he thought he might drag a sound from him, but he couldn't.

His cock throbbed with his pounding heartbeat, his hips jerked and stuttered, and the liquid heat pooling in him seemed to flood his veins. Hawke clung to Anders, one hand gripping his ass, the other stroking and circling the stiffened peak, and he buried his face in the side of Anders' neck.

"Anders," he gasped. "Maker, love..."

He grunted, voice rough and hoarse and filthy. One last deep thrust, a roll of his hips buried deep in the mage's impossibly hot, tight ass, and he fell gasping, shaking, over the edge. He felt the thick, hot flood of his come - it coated his twitching length and trickled from Anders' fucked-open hole.

He wanted more - overstimulated to the edge of pain as he panted against his lover's skin, and he still wanted _more_. To watch his seed trickle over freckled thighs, to bury his tongue in Anders' stretched entrance as he whimpered and begged to be fucked again. To spank him with three fingers thrusting into him.

"You want to keep going?" Anders said. He arched up into Hawke's final thrust, panting eagerly. Hawke could feel the hum of the Fade over his skin this close, and he saw the faint glow of magic around Anders' fingers in the low light.

"Yeah," Hawke gasped. "But - not like this." He grinned against Anders' skin, and shifted higher to nip at his earlobe.

"Oh? How do you want me?"

"Fuck me," Hawke breathed. "I want you to fuck me."

" _Yes_ ," Anders groaned. It was the loudest sound he'd made yet, hoarse and eager.

Hawke rolled free of him, the two men's mixed sweat cooling on his chest. He ran his fingers through the damp coarseness of his chest hair, his softening cock resting on his stomach and one knee bent, thighs parted. The fire was dying down and it was near dark, but Hawke saw the hungry sweep of Anders' eyes over his nude body and despite all his experience, he flushed. He'd been seen in far more debauched states than this, by plenty of men with far more depraved tastes than any Anders had hinted at so far - but this was different. Anders' gaze was more intense, more eager, and when his hands settled on Hawke's inner thighs the touch was so welcome it burned.

"You're perfect," Anders said. He knelt up, displaying the lean planes of his body, his narrow hips, and the slightly curved length of his cock.

"You too," Hawke breathed. "Don't tease."

"Wasn't planning to."

Anders slid one hand up Hawke's thigh, higher and higher until his fingertips brushed Hawke's balls. His touch tingled with the warm and cool hum of creation magic, and Hawke bit his lip to hold back the moan that rose in his throat. When Anders' fingertips reached his shaft Hawke broke, biting his own fist hard enough to bruise as the sweet, deep ache of magic flooded through him. It felt nothing like healing - it felt like nothing he'd ever known before, and he hardened quickly under the light touches.

Anders' hand slid lower - but the magic didn't stop. A wave of vibrating pleasure swept over his balls, rippling from Anders' fingertips out through his nerves. It felt like fingertips caressing from his thighs to his toes, like molten pleasure flowing up his spine, and like melting ice spreading chilly fingers across his chest. He swallowed a moan - then choked on a cry as Anders' humming fingers slid inside him.

"There," Anders breathed. "That what you want?"

"Y-yeah," Hawke said. "More."

"Yeah?" Anders slid in a third finger, slow and steady and - _Maker_ , he was good. He sought out the sensitive spot that made Hawke writhe and pressed his fingertips to it, singing with magic that seemed to sink into his flesh.

"I'm ready - I'm so ready..." Hawke was babbling, voice cracking, and he balled his hands in the blankets and discarded clothes beneath him. "Please."

"Hush." Anders' fingers curled again, but this time Hawke's moan was stifled by a narrow palm pressed over his mouth.

"Is this okay?" Anders asked quietly. Hawke nodded, panting through his nose as he inhaled the warm, slightly medicinal scent of Anders' hand. He wondered where this moment might lead - to rougher touches, to Anders' weight pinning his wrists - or to Anders submitting, as Hawke had begun to suspect he might like to - and to biting and scratching and _ropes_. But for now, Hawke had this. Anders' hand pressed firmly over his mouth, tingling fingers withdrawing from his overstimulated body, and the thick, slicked tip of Anders' cock nudging between his spread cheeks. 

"You're sure?" Anders said, his voice barely audible even as he leaned close against Hawke's cheek.

He nodded, and pulled his thighs back, groaning helplessly against Anders' palm as the mage's cock breached his entrance. Anders was torturously slow, the thick, blunt head working Hawke open as he squirmed and panted beneath him. Anders' breath was hot on his cheek, his blunt nails digging into Hawke's skin, and his rigid girth throbbed as he sank into Hawke inch by inch.

"Bloody _fuck_ , you feel good," he breathed. His free hand traced circles on the back of Hawke's thigh as he eased in deeper. "Still good?"

Hawke nodded, eyes wide and thighs trembling as he rocked up against Anders' hips, and finally drew him deep. Anders hissed, burying his face against Hawke's neck as he gave a slow, teasing roll of his hips.

Hawke was glad of the firm pressure of Anders' hand over his lips. Maker help him, he couldn't have kept quiet without it. The grip of his palm reminded him to swallow the shaky moans he felt building with every pulse of Anders' cock inside him, and stifled the cry he couldn't hold back when Anders finally began to thrust.

It had been so long - and with the slight burn of Anders' first thrust giving way to a sweet, aching pleasure, Hawke couldn't imagine why he'd waited so long. Anders was better than good - it was another kind of magic, the elegant way he rolled his hips and somehow seemed to just _know_ how to hit that pleasure point over and over. Hawke tangled a hand in Anders' hair - aware of Justice, and of the boundaries they hadn't discussed, but he couldn't resist balling his hand into a fist and feeling the faintest tug on Anders' scalp. Anders murmured encouragement against his ear, and Hawke held on tighter, clinging to the anchor of the silky gold as Anders' cock plunged into him.

"Let me - here..." Anders pulled back, releasing Hawke's mouth. Hawke bit his lip, not trusting himself even as Anders slowed his thrusts and shifted his grip to low on the backs of Hawke's thighs.

He encouraged Hawke onto his side, hooking his arm under Hawke's bent knee as he settled behind him and resumed his slow - but not quite gentle - thrusts. Anders' reaching fingers found Hawke's mouth - long and slim and tasting faintly of salt and herbs as the pads dipped between his parted, spit-slick lips.

"Suck," Anders said against the shell of Hawke's ear. "Bite if you need - Maker I - I wish I could hear you..."

" _Ngh_ ," Hawke groaned around Anders' fingertips, then fought back an eager whine as they slid deeper. He lapped at the pads until Anders gasped and his hips jerked, nipped at the joints, and sucked hard. Every glide of his lips and each rasp of teeth drove Anders harder. He panted raggedly against Hawke's shoulder, lips damp and breath shaking as his length thrust smoothly into Hawke's stretched entrance. Hawke let his voice be held in by the firm press of fingers, muffling soft moans as his body clenched, arched, and shuddered against Anders' chest. He was unravelling fast, thighs tight and shivering, mouthing wetly at the fingers thrust between his lips, toes curling and cock rigid against his stomach. Anders was closer - he could feel it in the quickening thrusts, in the shake in his breath, and the rough pull at Hawke's thigh he added to every jerk of his hips.

Anders panted roughly, breath hoarse as he buried his face in Hawke's hair. His lips brushed Hawke's neck, and his fingertips pressed hard against his tongue. He thrust twice more - hard enough the jut of his hips would leave bruises, Hawke was sure, but it felt too good to even think of caring - then pulled out to spill messily over Hawke's slick, stretched hole.

Hawke bit down on the thick press of fingers, fighting to hold back the wanton moan threatening to rise free of his throat. He could feel the hot, slick streaks of seed smeared in the cleft of his ass, and the twitching length of Anders' cock grinding against him, the head brushing against his sensitive, gaping rim. His breath caught as he felt Anders pause, shift his angle, and with a shuddering gasp, Anders slid into him again. Hawke groaned at the heated wetness coating Anders' shaft, and his voice was muffled as Anders' fingers thrust further between his lips.

"Come," Anders breathed. "I - I'll not take long - second one I'm – _Maker,_ you're perfect."

Anders' arm slipped under him and curled around his waist, humming fingertips brushing Hawke's shaft. Hawke's breaths were shallow, shaken and hoarse as he bucked against the teasing touch, and Anders was just as eager. His thrusts were quick and sharp but unsteady, the seed-slick length of his cock throbbing inside Hawke as he chased shared pleasure, gasping against his shoulder. His palm wrapped around Hawke's length, searing with the sweet shiver of magic, and as Hawke stifled a whimper against his hand, he released a weak burst of sparks against the sensitive flesh.

It was enough - Maker, it was almost too much. Hawke bit down on Anders' fingers, swallowing his moan as his gasps pitched higher and his chest heaved with trembling breaths. He clawed at Anders' hair, arched against his chest, and felt the hot pulse of Anders' cock as he tightened around him. He spilled over Anders' tingling fingers, over-sensitised but desperately chasing every last moment of friction and every snap and spark of magic.

Anders' teeth grazed his shoulder, a messy, urgent crush of slack lips against sweat-damp skin as his body trembled and his hips jerked, and he came with a last ragged gasp, clinging to Hawke's thigh and breathing hard against his neck.

"Do you think there's any chance they didn't hear that?" Hawke asked as Anders' fingers withdrew from his mouth, trailing saliva over his cheek.

"Better than you'd think." Anders' breath caught as he pulled out, and Hawke bit his lip to hold back his groan as he felt the slickness smeared over his skin. "It felt louder than it was."

"It felt fucking _incredible_." Hawke grinned and turned over, pulling Anders against his heaving chest.

"I might be ready," Anders said. His hair hung around his face, casting deep shadows, but Hawke could see the shape of his smile and the affection in his eyes in the faint remains of the light. "If they heard - or they guess. I've been thinking that - you'll think I'm stupid..."

"Never."

"That if I'm imagining this, I don't have to stop if no one knows." Hawke ran his fingertips over Anders' cheek, and Anders leaned into the touch.

"And now?"

"This is real," Anders breathed. "I didn't think it was possible - but it's real."

"It is." Hawke pulled him close, and kissed him hard. A graze of teeth, a crush of soft lips against Anders' own, and a tangle of heated breaths with every flick of tongue. They'd both come a long way to find each other - but they were here now. Cooling sweat, aches and stickiness they might regret come morning, tangled in the crumpled scatter of their clothes - it was messy, intense and new, and it was _real_.

***

"So, you and Anders," Isabela said, grinning as she stowed her tent in her pack.

Hawke glanced guiltily at Anders, who was locked in conversation - hopefully not an argument - with Merrill. He'd said he was ready, but Hawke had hoped to give him a little more time, at least.

"You heard?" he asked.

"Not a thing." She chuckled and ran her fingers through her hair, bracelets clinking. "You two were quiet as mice. Dead giveaway. Hawke, sweetheart, you don't _do_ quiet."

He stared at her blankly, and Isabela laughed, straightening up and pulling her pack onto her shoulders.

"You two sharing a tent usually means I'll be kept awake for _hours_ listening to your painful flirting. 'Oh, baby, tell me more about mage rights'..."

"I'm much smoother than that," Hawke said. "You're forgetting how I told him that Justice had good taste in hosts - my finest moment."

"I do find bringing up possession to be the _best_ way to get sad, feathery mages into bed." She smirked. "Something worked, anyway. Only way you'd shut up is if you had a nice, stiff..."

"If I admit it, will you stop?"

"Oh bless you - you're blushing. You really do like him. I'll want the gossip later, you know?"

"The price I pay for your friendship," Hawke grinned. "Just give us a few more days? It's all a bit new."

"You're very persuasive," Isabela said. "I can manage that - my lips are sealed."


End file.
